


Dean Winchester is Trapped

by HollyGoPossumlovesJ2



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Badass Reader, Comedy, Complete, Dean Winchester has girl problems, Dean Winchester objectification, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Impala Sex, Karaoke, One Shot, Smut, Unconventional Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyGoPossumlovesJ2/pseuds/HollyGoPossumlovesJ2
Summary: Dean Winchester has gotten himself into some pretty dangerous situations but nothing could prepare him for this turn of events.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from @dixonsvixon2017 and like most of my fics, this is cross posted. She wanted a boyfriend stealing Reader with some Impala smut. Oh, and this Andrea chick? She deserves what's coming...
> 
> I hope you like it. Leave me love, please!❤️

**Y/N's POV**

Today was turning out to be a really fantastic day. It was perfectly over cast, the sun warming your skin. You'd decided to try out dead man's blood coated ammunition to slow the vampires down and you were quite pleased with yourself.

You had just helped the Winchester's take out an entire nest as you approached Dean quietly from behind, filled with satisfaction. He was already wiping off his arms with a dirty rag and all that told you was that he was anxious to get back to the bunker. He was anxious to get back to her.

"Hey, Dean! Catch!" You tossed the unloaded rifle abruptly in his direction, catching him by surprise as he stood wiping down a couple of machetes at Baby's trunk.

However, Dean's reflexes rarely failed him and this time wasn't any different. He caught it one handed, a big smile on his face. God, you loved that smile. It seemed that for the past year you hadn't seen it enough.

"Did you see that?!" Adrenaline was pumping fast through your veins and you knew his smile was mirrored on your face as you began shedding your first layer of clothes. You started to strip down to the pair of gym shorts and tank top that you always wore beneath your hunting clothes. You would roll the bloody armful into a ball and stuff them in the corner of the trunk like you normally did.

Dean chuckled, his eyes shining bright green with excitement. "Hell yeah, I saw it! I was standing three feet from you- Gah, give a guy some warning, won't you?" You thought it was strange when he abruptly turned away from you to face the copse of trees. He had to know you weren't naked underneath these layers of clothes. And would it be so bad if you were?

"You've been working on your right handed swing. Great job." Sam as always quick to praise you or give you advice. You could tell Sam too was still pumped up, but he was a little more subtle about it. He just seemed more in the moment than usual. He went to pat you on the back but noted how covered in vamp guts his hand was and refrained at the last moment. "You don't waste a minute before you start dropping clothes, do you?" Sam questioned as he began rinsing his hands off with a bottle of holy water and a rag from the trunk.

You shrugged, about to answer his observation with the usual 'There's no time like the present to be comfortable.' But Dean beat you to it. "No, she does not." He answered for you before sliding into the driver's seat, the upholstery fitting him like a well worn glove. Through the back window you saw him slide his hands over the steering wheel in greeting, his touch soft like a lover. His obsession with his car never failed to make warmth spread through your chest.

You frowned a little at his abrupt behavior. He'd been acting strange lately. In fact, he actually seemed like he was purposefully distancing himself from you. You could pin point his behavior down to the time it had started. It was the minute he'd met Andrea, the research buff from California.

She was blonde with a D cup and a figure to kill for. She was a walking, talking intelligent pin up and appeared to check all of Dean's requirements. Probably everything that you would never be. She never got her hands dirty, opting to be in charge of research while Sam was in the field. You could see why Dean would drop everything and run to her side. If the girl got the sniffles, Dean was right there to help. Freaking loyal jerk.

You scoffed ruefully at yourself, sparing a glance to the side. Yep. Sam Winchester was watching you with an all knowing expression that made you feel like he could see beneath your skin. You bit your bottom lip hard in anticipation, wondering if today would be the day that he called you out.

"Why don't you grab shot gun, Y/N?" He grinned at you momentarily before folding into the back seat way too gracefully for someone of his stature.

"Son of a bitch." You grumbled quietly after he'd slammed the heavy door closed on any argument. You didn't know how you were going to handle sitting in the front seat next to him knowing you weren't who he wanted. "Fine." You shot Sam a dirty look before you took your seat. "I pick first song!"

"Uh, you know the rules..." Dean eyed you for just a second before concentrating fully on where he was pointing his Baby. The smile he'd had before was long gone, replaced with tension.

You summoned up your most endearing smile, hoping to see another one of his in return. "I promise I'll pick a Metallica song..." You practically sing-songed, trying to put up a good front. Both of you didn't need to be miserable and awkward.

Instead, he nodded begrudgingly in agreement before rolling his window down. The open air ruffling his already messed up hair didn't help the ache in your heart. So, you flipped to St. Anger on your iPod dock and leaned into the breeze already blowing through your window. You had the familiar itch beneath your skin that probably wouldn't be cured without a little help of alcohol. In fact, you knew this particular high wouldn't be quenched until you'd ridden the adrenaline right into the ground.

"You guys wanna head to Paul's later?" You didn't turn to look at their expressions. You just closed your eyes against the wind as it brushed gently across your skin. You felt it buffet your eye lashes and whoosh across your ears.

"I... Yeah," you envisioned more than saw Dean's reluctant shrug. "Just let me call-" But he didn't have to finish his sentence. The phone rang shrill, interrupting the peace of the wind and music that had been settling your bones. "Andrea, baby I was just about to... Yeah, yeah, they were exactly where we thought they'd be." You did your best to block out the timbre of his voice.

You'd been hunting with the Winchester's for years. So you thought you could get a read on either one of them pretty efficiently. Your grandfather, the alcoholic who died young and alone on your mother's side, had been a Man of Letters. You hadn't known you were a legacy when your boyfriend had been mauled by a couple of rogue vampires. However, they did become your specialty as a hunter. You took sick pleasure in decapitating every vampire who dare breathe in your direction.

Then, you'd met up with the Winchester's on a hunt and the rest, as they say, is history. You'd been living with them quite happily, until Andrea had shown up on a poltergeist hunt and you'd seen the dopey look on Dean's face a mile away.

You'd never had a shortage of anger to channel into your job, but for a while it was hard to pin point what was giving you that extra ruthless edge. It became crystal clear the moment you'd walked ignorantly into the bunker and found Dean nailing Andrea to the war room table. To this day you can't even look at it without feeling a little nauseated.

It was clear then, that you had finally allowed yourself to love someone whole heartedly after your last boyfriend's death. You had allowed it to sneak up on you and now, it was too late.

You weren't sure if you were more upset that you'd allowed yourself to believe that Dean was all yours and had him taken away. Or, if it was the fact that Andrea was all wrong for him. She was needy, practically defenseless. You weren't sure what blinded him to her liability. Or maybe it was her vulnerability that attracted him. Was it the fact that she didn't have the blood on her hands like you did, literally and figuratively?

"We're gonna swing by home and pick up Andrea. Poor things been stuck in the bunker for a week." Dean's voice interrupted your thoughts as you nodded that you'd heard him. Like Andrea couldn't drive a fucking car into town to get away for a while. Or maybe, lost... You still couldn't look at him because you were afraid he'd see the truth.

\-------

  
"Hey, we're home." You felt the gentle prodding of your shoulder before you'd even heard his voice. It was low and full of fondness and the expression you opened your eyes to was not disappointing. "You conked out fifteen minutes in. Slept through a gas stop. You feelin okay?" His eyes roamed like he was making doubly sure that you weren't hiding something, his concern obvious. If he only knew.

You weren't completely awake, so you thought nothing of returning his gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine." You answered back, unwilling to let him worry over you even if you were practically unconscious. You hadn't noticed the soothing motion he'd been doing against the skin of your shoulder until it had stopped. The move just felt natural, like it was supposed to be there. You felt your lips form a lazy smile as his gaze became fervent, his eyes boring into yours as if he could find answers there.

"You sure?" He questioned, and you were shocked to realize he was a little breathless, his lips parted slightly to accommodate his elevated breathing. "Y/N, I..." He stumbled on his words, his grip tightening on your shoulder like he could draw strength straight from you. "Can we-"

"Dean! There you are!" Andrea's brightly toned voice echoed hollowly in the bunker garage and he snapped to attention. "Baby, are you okay? Sammy said you weren't injured..."

The 'Sammy' grated against your very skin, propelling you into hyper awareness. You didn't look at either one of them as you quickly grabbed your bag and threw yourself out of the car, slamming the door behind you.

**Dean's POV**

He was still stuck on your abrupt exit when Andrea practically jumped him with an abundance of enthusiasm. However, she was quick to let go and that focused his attention back to her.

"Eww, you drove five hours covered in vamp ick? Couldn't you guys have stopped to take a shower or something?" This was all said while she investigated her own clothes to make sure the dirt hadn't transferred.

It was then that he noticed that she was clothed in a little black dress complete with three inch heels and he couldn't stop the thought that this was all wrong. "You do know we're just going down to Paul's?"

"Can't we go a couple of towns over? There's this really cute club I want to try." She turned her wide blue eyes on him, a pleading tilt to her eyebrows.

It was hard for him to tell her no. Mainly because Dean was afraid of the consequences. Andrea could throw a bitch fit to rival all bitch fits. Dean wasn't sure where he'd gone wrong or how he'd gotten himself into this mess, but it was the first time he didn't know how to get out. If he broke up with her, she wouldn't have anywhere else to go. They'd opened up the bunker to house fellow legacies and Andrea somehow fit the bill. It would make things... awkward.

"I don't want to go to a club." Sam answered for him, a tone that brokered no argument as he walked back into the garage like someone had taken a gigantic piss in his Sasquatch sized wheaties. "Are you just gonna leave all the gear in the car or what Dean?" Sammy's tone baffled them both, but only Dean knew that Sam wouldn't be pissy without reason. The bitch face he leveled Andrea with over his shoulder spoke volumes.

"Oh." Andrea conceded quietly, her bottom lip almost jutting out into a pout. "I guess Paul's is fine." At least Dean felt he had one line of defense and that was that Andrea never questioned his brother.

"Maybe some other time." Dean placated, feeling strange as the words left his mouth. When had he become that guy? He made fun of that guy!

Sam shot him confused look over the top of the car before he reached the trunk to take out the bags.

"Where's Y/N?" Dean asked before grabbing his duffle and yours and slinging them both over his shoulder.

Sam hesitated for just a moment, only Dean was able to spot it. "She's not feeling well. I told her we'd get it." Sam slammed the trunk closed with a ringing clang of finality. His brother was pissed about something and Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know what had set off his peace keeper brother.

However, when Dean entered the bunker he kept his pace as he bypassed his room and went directly to yours. He knocked before stepping in quietly. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You answered him, and Dean could tell that something was wrong. "Sorry." You immediately began to apologize from beneath the pile of covers you'd buried yourself under. Dean knew you. He knew that you wouldn't just hide in your room and let them handle the bags for no reason.

"Don't be sorry." He answered back softly after depositing your duffle beside your desk. His footsteps were soundless as he approached you and sat on the edge of the mattress. "You just not feeling well?"

You seemed happy for the out. "Yeah, I guess I'm just more tired than I thought." You tried your best to mask the thickness in your voice as you lied. Holding your breath, you waited for him to say something. Anything.

"Y/N, what I was gonna say earlier..." His head was hung low, hiding his expressive eyes from you as he blundered the English language. He knew one look from you and it would all be over. "I just- I can't- Do you..."

"Hey, are we going or what?" Andrea didn't knock before she came bouncing in to sit directly in Dean's lap, blocking you out completely.

He wondered why he hadn't realized all along just how transparent Andrea was.

"You guys go ahead. I'm just gonna sleep. I'm more exhausted than I thought." Dean knew every word out of your mouth was a lie. You did appear tired, even your words slurred together a little with laziness. He knew you were giving him the easy way out and he wasn't quite sure how to rectify it.

"Well, okay buzzkill." Andrea appeared to be teasing but now Dean wasn't entirely sure that she was. "Let's go, Babe."

Dean knew he was a coward for allowing Andrea to pull him out of your room, but he did know that changes needed to be made. As soon as possible. Just, maybe after they got back from the bar. He'd have a face to face, honest to God conversation with her and everything would be fine.

\----

Dean had been sitting at a table in the corner with Andrea plastered to his side for nearly an hour when Sam had stepped outside to give you a call. Sam had appeared worried and distracted which made Dean also worried and distracted. The full bar seemed empty to Dean with out you and his gigantic little brother by his side.

"Baby, will you grab me another drink?" Andrea's voice pitched above the lonely, off key rendition of Time of Your Life by Green Day being butchered by some guy who'd had way too many shots of bottom shelf whiskey.

Dean didn't consider himself a great singer, but he was positive he could do better than this guy. However, he hadn't sang karaoke since your birthday last year. Andrea didn't like to share his attention...

This revelation only added to the unsettled feeling building inside him. Like pressure was building up in his chest cavity and was likely to explode any moment.

"Sure." Dean answered, his bones creaking a little as he stood up and approached the bar. Paul's was a small, back roads place, but it was kicking tonight. He had to wait to be served and found himself studying the grain of the wood on the bar top until a familiar tune reached out through the heavy haze blanketing him.

_I know you like me, I know you do. That's why whenever I come around, she's all over you._

Dean hated cliches, but he couldn't even describe it as anything other than rays of sun slicing through the fog. He wasn't even about to voice that crap, even to himself.

_I know you want it, it's easy to see. And in the back of your mind, you know you should be on with me._

He recognized the tune, but the pace was slowed way down and the voice that was quieting down the patrons clatter around him had a smoky quality to it.

Dean's eyes were stuck on your every move as he tried to reconcile the voice he recognized with the clothes you were encased in. A hot flush of arousal automatically rushed through his body, slamming him with surprising intensity.

_Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? Don't cha? Don't cha, baby?_

Or maybe he was more stuck on the way your hips and shoulders seemed to lack the stabilizing mass of bones as they swayed smoothly with the slowed down beat. Were you really the woman who had just decapitated several vampires just a few hours before?

_Don't cha wish your girlfriend was raw, like me? Don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me? Don't cha?_

Or maybe it was the way the deep red dress that barely covered your ass hugged your every curve like a second skin. The color put your well toned, tanned body in sharp relief. Dean was sure he'd never seen you dressed like this before and it felt like a goddamned revelation.

_Fight the feeling, leave it alone. 'Cause of it ain't love, it just ain't enough to leave my happy home._

"Dean, what's the-" He barely registered Andrea's voice, but he distantly knew that she was standing right next to him. But he was transfixed, his eyes on yours, focused like a laser. He didn't even respond when she tried to pull his arm. Instead his eyes inspected the gloss of your lips and the smudges of coal over your eye lashes.

_Let's keep it friendly, you have to play fair. See, I don't care, but I know she ain't gonna wanna share._

Always the observant hunter, Dean knew that all eyes were glued to the spectacle you were making with the subtle roll of your body. Some had paused mid drink, their respective bottles raised to their lips but paralyzed by the same spell. All except Andrea.

"Dean!!" Andrea caught his attention when her tiny, incapable hand slapped sharply across his cheek. Dean's glazed over expression barely spared her a glance for her effort. "If you don't walk away right now, I'm done! I'm tired of seeing that look on your face! The look that you've reserved just for her! How can I compete with that?"

_Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? Don't cha? Don't cha?_

"Dean?!" He felt her ineffectual grip pull one more time on his arm before she yelled her parting words. She was a shrill fuzz in the background. "We're done, Dean! Done!" Dean knew she'd left his side and probably run outside, her feelings hurt beyond belief. But, Dean couldn't summon the need to follow her. However, soon, he realized his flushed state and his lung's desperate need for some fresh air.

He stayed long enough for the music to fade out before he laid a few bills on the bar to cover the tab and fled. Once outside, he noted the lack of your mustang and Sam before he made the assumption that Sam had taken Andrea home.

Dean's heart hadn't even had a chance to calm down when the bar door opened and he knew automatically that it would be you when he turned around. And Dean realized that he always knew where you were. Like a sixth sense, he always knew when you'd entered his orbit.

"Dean?" The trepidation and fear in your voice cut him deeply and he wasted no time in spinning around to face you.

**Y/N's POV**

He caught you off guard when he pushed you against the red brick wall of the bar, pressing his entire body against yours. His mouth connected with yours, his lips bruising against you with a desperate force as the rough texture of the brick made the fabric of your dress drag. You couldn't resist the thrill of pleasure that zinged through your insides at his response.

"What the hell made you do that?" Dean's voice was low and gritty as he spoke brokenly against your lips.

Your hands raised to hold onto him, but he was quick to pin them above your head. Your wrists restrained with one broad hand.

You knew Dean knew that you could break the hold at any time, but that just made it even more exciting. Just his touch made you feel on the edge. "Sammy." You whispered back and that made him pause.

"That's not the name you should be sighing, Sweetheart." He scolded half heartedly, his hips rocking hard against you and you thrilled at the hot feel of his hard cock against your stomach.

"Whatever you say." You responded distractedly and then lost track of time as his tongue urgently plundered your mouth like he wanted to taste every space thoroughly. You vaguely registered the cold steel against your back when he pushed you against the passenger side of the Impala. You had no recollection of how you'd even made it across the parking lot.

"Whatever I say?" He rasped before you found yourself flipped, his body blanketing your back with delicious weight. The way his length was pressing into you as he nibbled and sucked a mark into your neck made your toes curl.

"Uh-huh." You managed to breathe out, your breath fogging up a patch of slick, black paint as his hands were now free to squeeze your breasts in his hands.

You felt his hands slide down over your rib cage, down your sides to finally land on your hips where he settled with a firm grip. So silently possessive that you knew you were ruining the black lace that you had on underneath your dress.

"This is all for me?" He growled forcefully against the damp skin of your neck, his lips brushing butterfly wings soft against the moisture beading there.

The growl of his voice, the syncopated sound of his ragged breathing, made you arch your back. "Fuck yes." You answered as you felt his breath hitch in his chest. His cock twitched hard where it was trapped by the worn blue jeans he was wearing.

You heard him swear low as he was able to tear himself away long enough to jerk the passenger door open. He had barely had a chance to sit down before you were straddling his thighs. "Fuck, Sweetheart-" He sounded just as on edge as you felt as his lips were back on yours as he slouched down in the seat. "I can't wait to get you home." He pressed the words into your mouth, "We're not exactly hidden."

Just as your fingers found his button you realized you'd lost all of your inhibitions. You hadn't even had a drop of alcohol tonight and the idea of maybe being seen or caught just urged you on. "Let them watch." You whispered barely above a breathe as you put your hand on his bare, searingly hot cock and pulled him out into the air.

It twitched in your grip, a blurt of precome oozing across your fingers as he hissed through his teeth. He swore again as he hiked your dress up, nearly tearing your panties as he pushed them aside. His desperation spread heat straight through you and you couldn't help but to echo his moan of satisfaction as he wasted no time in penetrating you. He hadn't even pulled his pants down, and the jeans were rough against the sensitive flesh of your thighs.

You could hardly breathe, his own desperate groans of pleasure blocking out all logical thought. This feeling of being completely full in so many ways was all consuming as he began to guide your hips up and down. "Fuck, Dean." You let your forehead drop against his. "God you feel so fucking good." It wasn't an embellishment as you luxuriated in the way he rolled his hips as he thrust up, hitting your g spot like it was a damn bullseye.

As his grip tightened on your hips, you knew how your words were effecting him. You knew he wasn't going to last long by the way his hips were already stuttering in their rhythm. But that was okay, because you knew all you needed was just one more touch before you were finished.

A sound you could only describe as a whine escaped Dean's throat when he figured out where you were directing his fingers. "Fuck, baby. You gonna come for me? It feels so fucking good inside you." He took a moment to touch where you were joined together before two fingers slid up to drag circles around your clit.

A couple of circles was all it took before your orgasm crashed into you. His hands continued to guide you, his hips fucking you through your release. Distantly you felt him seize, his breath hot as his shout of release vibrated against your skin. He sounded tormented, like he'd just been run through with the demon knife, as he tried to regain control.

You felt anchored in the moment while he held you close, your clean hand sliding rhythmically through the sweaty, short hairs on the nape of his neck.

It was silent for too long, making you doubt yourself a little. You'd never put any effort into seducing anyone. You'd always been a 'what you see is what you get' kind of girl. What if... "You're not freaking out on me, are you?"

It was a relatively tense couple of minutes before you felt his lips brush against your neck in a soft kiss. His voice was muffled as he spoke into your flushed skin. "Sweetheart, even if I could muster up the energy to freak out, I wouldn't be."

The relaxed tone of his voice soothed the worried voice in your head that was scolding you for doing something so rash. Still, you were reluctant to let him untuck his face from it's safe position against your neck to level his lust blown, fever bright eyes on you.

> "Believe me when I say, that there hasn't been any time before that I felt as right as I do right now."


End file.
